Oh, Uncle Julian. How could you? Not Anna. "This episode contains violent scenes that some viewers may find upsetting." Heavens above. Well, we were half-prepared for that warning, as there was no preview episode available this week, and the last time that happened Sybil bled to death. And as with the Sybil episode, we didn't really get any action until the last seven minutes.

As soon as Mini-Den's hip flask appeared, it became obvious. "He's not going to rape her, is he?" I asked, like an idiot dupe. And so, of course, it transpired. I am still not sure what to think. "Nobody else must ever know," Anna begged, "You promise me?" Trust has been ruptured on many, many levels, both in the house and with the audience. A comb is not going to be of much help here, Mrs Hughes. Nor is a new dress.

I'm torn between two extremes. One part of me thinks that this plot direction could be just the thing to revive a series which seems baggy and flagging after only three episodes. Could Anna be pregnant? What other liberties will Mini-Den take in the house now that Anna hasn't grassed him up? And what will Bates do when he eventually finds out, as eventually he must? That's if their relationship lasts at all.

Another part of me feels irritated and betrayed. Anna is a favourite character. There was something gratuitous about throwing this turn of events into the mix, especially when this episode also sowed the seeds of a thousand other subplots involving random new characters. The problem here, as so often in Downton Abbey, is that our emotional investment is so thinly spread across so many characters, shifting viewpoints and mini-scenes with barely one line of dialogue. So when something truly gripping happens, you're just left feeling numb.

(Note regarding Mini-Den: I will refer to this character, played by Nigel Harman, as Mini-Den for now, the character he used to play in EastEnders. Mostly because his character name has been poorly established so far. He is Mr Green. But he is called Mr Gillingham downstairs in tribute to the name of the aristo he is serving. Get me with my knowledge.)

Before Anna was attacked, our attention was being splattered all over the place like the jam in a jar opened by Jimmy. Rose was cosying up to a very greasy type. Edith was failing to interest anyone in the imminent German. (Until - hurrah! - he turned out to be a bit of a whiz at poker.) Mary went horse-riding and had a conversation about the Inland Revenue.

I half-relished some of the "something bad's going to happen!" clangers dropped and looks exchanged throughout this episode. Cora: "A house party can be so flat if there's no special moment." Lord Grantham: "I want to go out with a bang." Edith: "I should be careful if I were you." But by the end of it all, that all felt rather nasty and voyeuristic, when something so genuinely horrible really was about to happen. The horror in Downton is usually fairly pantomime. This felt possibly too real, too desperate. I can't quite forgive it. As Carson put it, "What a topsy turvy world we've come to."

Random subplot alert

Well, it was all subplot until the last seven minutes. And we had to put up with lines like this from people whose presence was not explained: "Do you know Isabella Moncrieff? She's blown up like a balloon." I do realise that this stuff was designed to show how frustrating it is to be Tom Branson among all these aristos, but unfortunately it felt as tiring to us as it did to him. I did love the fact that Alfred's culinary ambitions returned in this episode. They have surfaced before. But he is going to have to learn to cook something other than bechamel sauce if he is going to get anywhere. And, please, do we have to have a re-run of the doomed love affair between Edna "duplicitous housemaid" Braithwaite and Tom "I'll never be a real aristo" Branson? It seems we do.

Golden Eyebrow Award of the week

Almost too many candidates to mention this week. "How are the squabs doing? What about the syllabubs? Oh my God, the vegetables!" Mrs Patmore looked as if she were about to have a heart attack. Which she then proceeded to have. Except, no, it was just an anxiety attack. According to Dr Death, anyway.

Lord Grantham's "What does one say to a singer?" was a close eyebrow contender. As was this line from Dame Maggie: "If I were to search for logic, I would not look for it in the English upper class."

The defender of the eyebrow title fought back bravely: "An Australian singer, eating with her Ladyship?" Carson's eyebrow action as ever seemed to indicate a shock so extreme that he would almost choke. Which is no doubt what he thinks would happen to anyone from upstairs forced to sit near an Australian.

But there could only be one winner tonight. "You want me to be a footman? I'm having my career backwards." Oh the humiliation of having to wear gloves! Mr Molesley wins the Golden Eyebrow. Although I concede that it is partly a sympathy vote.

Surprise character development

It's getting very difficult to know what we should make of Lady Mary. And I say this with the deepest of sympathy for Michelle Dockery, who is a fabulous actor. "I loved him. But he changed me. If I were as tough as I was when I met him, maybe I'd be happier now." And now the sight of the gramophone has indisposed her. The script for Lady Mary's mourning has been tricky: it's as if she's been told to play out her grief as a waxwork. Now even she is longing for her former self. As are we all. Please, someone, give Mary a direction soon.

"Sorry, could you just repeat that awkward line of dialogue?"

• "I'm afraid Tom's small talk is very small indeed." "Not everyone can be Oscar Wilde." "Well, that's a relief." Lord Grantham and the dowager countess discussing Tom Branson. Lovely. If Dame Maggie were paid by the word, she'd get next to nothing.

• "Oh you know Mary, she's always quite opaque." The understatement of the century from Isobel Crawley.

• "I have made quite a study of claret." What the Australian singer is trying to say is that she likes a drink.

Next week

Rose meets the jazz man. There's more tension between Anna and Bates. Lady Mary's suitor is back with a vengeance. (Sorry this is brief but I still can't breathe after what happened to Anna. UNCLE JULIAN, HOW COULD YOU?)